


you tricked me into you

by akamine_chan



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 11:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray doesn’t remember exactly who dared him; it had been Warped and he’d spent a lot of that particular tour drunk.  He <i>thinks</i> it was Adam, but it might have been Cortez, or maybe one of the guys from Thursday.  The memory’s been blurred by the passage of time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you tricked me into you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [omens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omens/gifts).



> Written for Omens at my [birthday prompt-a-thon](http://akamine-chan.dreamwidth.org/272095.html) for the prompt of _Or or or Ray Toro sprawling in a skirt type fic._
> 
> Beta by Ande, as always.
> 
> Title from _Midnight Land_ by empires.

Ray doesn’t remember exactly who dared him; it had been Warped and he’d spent a lot of that particular tour drunk. He _thinks_ it was Adam, but it might have been Cortez, or maybe one of the guys from Thursday. The memory’s been blurred by the passage of time.

It’d been left behind on someone’s bus and had migrated from band to band during the course of the tour, an inanimate groupie, used and abandoned. It was a flannel skirt, green and blue plaid, but not one of those fake school girl mini-skirts. This skirt was long, with those pleated bits that made it hang straight. Whoever originally owned this had been a _big_ girl, tall and built. She probably could have kicked their collective asses.

By the time the skirt got to Ray, it’d been filthy and stained from spilled alcohol and other unsavory things; it hadn’t been worth thinking about it too closely. He’d been drunk, though, and he took the dare, which is why he ended up wearing the damn thing and dancing around the keg like an idiot.

He remembers laughing hysterically; his body was not designed to look good in a skirt, no matter how many wolf-whistles that said otherwise. They’d all been drunk or stoned or whacked out on something. The guys had ribbed him and made fun and he hadn’t minded, mainly because he was giggling too hard.

When he’d woke in the morning, head pounding, he was still wearing it. After a fruitless search for his jeans, he tromped across the parking lot, his own particular fucked-up walk of shame. Then Hurley and Trohman couldn’t resist cat-calling and Ray flipped them off before scuttling back to his own bus. He’d stripped off the skirt and stuffed it into his dirty laundry bag before crawling into his bunk to sleep, until his hangover wore off or until sound check, whichever came first.

He'd been lucky that his band hadn't see him in the skirt; he never would have heard the end of it.

The tour ended and they went back to Jersey for a break. His mama did his laundry and she was the best mama ever; she never asked _why_ he had a plaid skirt, just washed it and ironed it, folded it up and put in away in his drawers. The skirt followed him through a series of apartments, stuffed into the bottom of an old duffel bag, until now. Now he—they—had a house of their own and he was finally unpacking all the junk he'd shoved into the spare closet in the bedroom.

"Whatcha doing?" 

Ray had been so lost in his memories that he hadn't even noticed Gerard coming in. His first instinct was to bury the skirt under the other clothes in the bag, but realized how futile that was. He shrugged, gesturing to the closet. "Organizing." He shifted his weight a little, because his knees were starting to ache.

"Is that a skirt?" Gerard's voice was soft and utterly neutral. He pulled the skirt from Ray's slack grip and shook it out, giving it a crisp snap before holding it up to his own waist. "Nice." He folded it neatly before draping it over his arm. "Not really your style, though," he said noncommittally, rubbing the fabric between two fingers.

Ray could feel his face flame, and his embarrassment pissed him off. "I—it's stupid—it was for a dare—I never—" And now he sounded like he was ashamed and making excuses for himself. He scrambled to find the right words, because it was important to make Gerard understand that Ray hadn't been hiding this from him.

Gerard leaned down and kissed him, a firm press of his lips. "Not everything has to be about challenging society's expectations about gender and sexuality." He squeezed the back of Ray's neck and Ray leaned into the touch. "Sometimes you wear a skirt because your boyfriend finds it really hot." Gerard arched an eyebrow at him.

"Oh." Gerard was looking at him intently, and Ray felt that weird sense of disconnect that sometimes hit him. Because this was Gee, who he'd known since forever and Ray had been half in love with him for almost half his life. Gee, who was brilliant and talented and gorgeous, and Ray was just. . .Ray.

"Yeah." Gee pulled him to his feet and handed the skirt back to Ray, moving away a bit to watch.

Heat twisted in his stomach and Ray kicked off his jeans and carefully stepped into the skirt, holding his breath a little to get the zip up. He smoothed his hand down the wool and tried not to fidget as Gerard looked him over, circling slowly. "Gee—"

"Shhh." Gerard was flushed and heavy-lidded; he looked predatory, lean and sleek and _hungry_. "Sit down." He waved his hand toward the bed.

Ray did as he was told, sitting down stiffly at the edge of the bed, feeling awkward. His skin felt too tight and prickly, and he _knew_ there was nothing wrong with a dude putting on a skirt, he'd been with Gerard long enough to know that, but this wasn't about embracing his feminine side or exploring gender differentials.

This was about something else entirely.

"Lean back on your elbows," Gee said roughly, standing between Ray's legs and nudging his knees further apart.

Swallowing hard, he sprawled back on the bed, looking down the length of his body. The smooth line of his skirt was broken by his obvious erection and the desperate spread of his legs. He felt open, exposed and— "Oh, fuck," he whispered, suddenly so aroused he felt drunk with it. He tipped his head back and tried to catch his breath.

"Mmm." Gerard ran his fingers lightly up Ray's thigh and the wool rubbed against the bare skin of Ray's legs. "I remember this one party in high school, must have been our senior year," he murmured. "You were making out with this girl, and she was wearing a little skirt and I was _watching_ your hands."

Ray closed his eyes and tried to remember, but Gerard's touch overpowered his senses; it was all he could think about, and he wanted _more_.

"You had one hand on the small of her back, holding her against you," Gerard said, dragging his fingers down toward Ray's knee, so slowly. "And your other hand—" Gerard inhaled deeply. "Your other hand was moving up her leg, sliding under the fabric. . ." Gee matched action to words and slid his fingers under the heavy material, tracing a path toward Ray's dick, which was so hard it hurt. The light touch ruffled the hair on Ray's thigh and verged on being ticklish, but with his brain short-circuited by Gerard's words it felt unbelievably good, pulling a low, filthy sound out of him.

"Yeah," Gerard said, "like that." He dropped to his knees and rested both hands on Ray's thighs, his face shadowed. "I couldn't look away, your hands looked so big, so powerful. . ." He twitched the edge of the skirt upward with a flick of his wrist.

"Gee." Ray tried to gather his wits, to find the words to make Gerard do more than tease, but all he could do was repeat Gee's name and try to spread his legs further apart, putting himself on display. "Gee, please—"

"I couldn't stop watching you," he mumbled. Carefully, Gerard worked both hands under the skirt, his touch firmer this time, until they were wrapped around Ray's hips, thumbs resting on the waistband of Ray's shorts. "So hot."

Ray nodded; he felt like he was burning up, overstimulated in the best ways. There was a dampness at his hairline, down his back, misting his skin. Before Ray could take another breath, Gerard twisted his fingers and "Lift." Ray lifted and Gerard eased his underwear down and off and threw it carelessly over his shoulder.

The feel of the rough fabric against the head of his dick was almost unbearable. as ready as he was, and he couldn't hold back a sharp, broken sound. Gee grinned at that and flicked the fabric across Ray's cock, teasing him with the lightest friction possible.

"B—bastard," Ray stuttered out.

"That's not nice," Gee said. "You should be nicer to me." He slipped his index finger into his mouth and made a show of sucking on it.

Ray groaned and bit his lip. This was the game they played: Ray pretended that he wouldn't beg Gee to suck his dick and Gee proved to him how wrong he was.

"You want something, Ray?" Gee braced his hands on Ray's thighs and nuzzled at his erection. "Gotta ask for it, if you want it." 

Panting, Ray shook his head. He could feel the warmth of Gee's breath through the fabric and he gritted his teeth.

"No? You sure? I'm pretty good with my mouth."

"Fuck," Ray choked. Gee _was_ good with his mouth. "Fuck—"

Gee's voice dropped low. "Feels kinda empty right now, though."

"Cheating!" Ray gasped, fisting the sheets in both hands. "Please, Gee!" 

"You know what I wanna hear." Gee tossed his hair back out of his face, eyes steady on Ray's. "C'mon, Ray." He pushed the skirt further up and his hands were so hot against Ray's skin; it was unbearable. 

"Please, Gee, suck my dick, please, please, I can't— _please_ "

"So pretty," Gee whispered before moving the flannel out of his way and pressing a kiss to the head of Ray's cock.

Ray's entire body jerked at the touch and he couldn't stop his hips from pushing up. 

Gee sighed. "Yeah." He licked his hand and wrapped it around Ray's dick.

It tore a hoarse sound out of him. Ray couldn't look away as Gee opened his mouth and took in the head of his dick, mouth warm and wet and so fucking perfect. His tongue stroked the underside of Ray's cock, finding that spot that made Ray's toes curl hard and his thighs spread wider. 

And then it was too much, Ray was on the edge and he had to look away from the sight of Gerard's wet mouth wrapped around his cock, sucking him sloppy and fast and—"Fuck!" Ray's elbows slipped out from under him and he fell flat against the bed, fingers itching to bury themselves in Gee's hair and _pull_.

"So fucking big, gotta work to get all of you in," Gee muttered, mostly to himself.

"F—uck." Ray could feel the way his body was tensing, stomach muscles pulling tight, legs trembling. He was so fucking close and he fought against it, didn't want this delicious, agonizing pleasure to stop just yet. 

"Not gonna last, are you? So hard. . ." He swallowed Ray back down, head bobbing. Cupping Ray's balls, Gee squeezed a little roughly and that was _it_.

Ray's hands came up, moving across his chest and finding his nipples. He pinched, the sudden sting shoving him hard over the edge. "Oh, fuck, fuck fuck—" Ray cried out, back arching, orgasm crashing into him. Distantly he could feel Gee licking softly at his dick, but it wasn't registering through the aftershocks that had him twitching and gasping.

As soon as he could, he was saying Gee's name and reaching for him. "Come here, come here, kiss me—" Gee crawled up Ray's body, still clothed and shaking. They kissed, and Gee rutted against his thigh, making these desperate _sounds_ that Ray swallowed greedily. 

Ray shifted to give Gee a better angle and dug his fingers into his dark hair, pulling hard, knowing how much Gee got off on that. Gee hissed and struggled a little, making Ray using his strength to hold him close. Ray slipped a hand down to the small of Gee's back and pressed, making Gee ride the his thigh. "You want me to make you?" he asked in Gee's ear. "Hold you down and force you to come—"

Gee managed to strangle out Ray's name before his hips kicked and he came. Ray could feel the heat of it through Gee's jeans, damp and warm against his bare leg. Gee shuddered and relaxed, draping himself bonelessly over Ray. "Holy fuck," he slurred against Ray's shoulder. 

And that about covered it. "Yeah." He thought about moving, about getting them out of their clothes and cleaned up and under the covers, but Gee's breathing was deep and slow; the fucker was already asleep. A nap sounded perfect so Ray let himself go and drifted away.

-fin-


End file.
